A New World
by AnimeFreak347
Summary: Joining a research expedition seemed like a good idea for America to avoid work after the end of the Cold War; he even invited along Canada, Mexico, and Greenland. Too bad he didn't account for spirits and powers from beyond. Oh and magic- apparently England was right about that. Tomb Raider crossover so there will be blood and gore. Tomb Raider knowledge not needed to read.
1. Chapter 1

A New World

* * *

Before I start, I want to explain what this is. I always create situations where America, Canada, and Greenland (eventually Mexico was added to the mix) discover how there is magic in the world like England and Norway have been saying. And ever since I played Tomb Raider (2013) 2 years ago, I have had this story stuck in my head (with continuations/sequels included) ever since. To place them in this kind of situation and FORCE them to learn much like Lara did in the game. And so I finally decided enough was enough- I'm going to write it. So I'm probably not going to place it as a crossover because my plan for it is that the story eventually leaves crossover land eventually.

You know the drill, I don't own either show/manga or game.

* * *

March 5, 1992

* * *

A decent sized research vessel leaves behind a city, heading straight towards the ocean. On its hull it bares the name Endurance, with smaller words below it- Plymouth, its origin place. The ship is an old one, this is evident by the dents, scraps, and permanent filth all around her hull.

Different individuals could be seen spread throughout the ships deck.

An Asian girl fiddling with her camera. Two crew members receiving instructions from a man with a loud and thick Scottish accent. Another man tinkering with his computer. A large man with brown skin was whistling a tune as he gutted a fish. A stern black woman overlooking her subordinates.

Among the activity on board the ship, there was something different about a couple of the Endurances crew in this new expedition.

Away from the bustling crew sat two of these individuals. A small female that had dark skin and long black hair tied into a loose braid. Next to the woman was a fair skinned blonde male who, even when sitting, was a good ways taller than her 157.5 cm (5'2'' in) size.

These were the respective nations of Greenland and Canada on a couple crates. They were looking at a sheet of paper

"See then this would be the area they plan to search in" Canada said pointing at the paper, map really.

"And they're just trying to find evidence right? I mean usually things like this are old and it's never good to disrupt the spirits" Greenland implored then seemed to back pedal as soon as she realized what she said "I- uh I mean if you believe in those kinds of things"

Before Canada could reassure Greenland in some way shape or form (this was Canada after all) someone else seemed to materialize behind them

"Having second thoughts Greenland? We only left Japans port 3 days ago. Last I checked I'm the one who threw up" Mexico was a naturally tan individual with unruly dark curly hair to match her personality, also one of the notably shorter nations at 150 cm (4'11'' in). Mexico never did like feeling nervous, so she placed it upon herself to jump into the conversation in that moment for her fellow female nation.

She was never known for being subtle.

"Lort!" Greenland almost fell off the crate with how badly the other girl scared her. Canada rolled his eyes at Mexico's comment and the apparently obvious note that she had been listening to their conversation, for a good while by the way she easily integrated herself into the conversation.

 _Nosy Latina._

"But" Mexico continued like she hadn't just scared the life out of one of the countries "I can see where you're coming from Gre- uh." Here she paused and glanced at the other female.

"Ane" Greenland repeated her human name, it wouldn't do to arouse suspicion in humans after all.

"Ane" Mexico parroted, then continued from where she left off "creating unrest in spirits is a nasty business, curses and all. Pero Ane, do you really think we're going to find something?" Mexico looked back to Greenland, she still seemed nervous to Mexico. In actuality Ane was not completely comfortable with Mexico, only meeting her a hand full of times before this adventure of theirs began. Actually now that she thought of it, she never really interacted with the female nations more than necessity.

"n-no?" Greenland managed to squeak out, as soon as it passed her lips she started berating herself for the slip. Mexico eyed her for a millisecond before coming to one conclusion.

 _This girl needs to eat. I'll have to feed her some of my enchiladas._

"Even if we did find something, Andrea" Canada finally cut in "what makes you think Ane or I will gain some part of the cures with how you and Alfred love to hog archaeological finds?"

Mexico huffed but said nothing against his claim.

* * *

Hours later, another individual could be seen examining different research files. This man was almost identical to the aforementioned Canada, except that he had shorter hair and tanner skin.

America was seated a desk that was littered with items. Papers, electronics and a collection of coffee mug looked as if they were seconds from spilling on the floor. He let out a large sigh before linking his hands and raising them above his head in a long stretch.

"I know you're a workaholic but even for you this is a bit much" Canada stood at the door of the small cabin. America turned his body automatically towards his brother, giving him his full attention.

"well, with everything being so hectic- this is the closest thing I could get my boss to agree to a 'vacation'" here America raised his hands and physically placed quotes on the word vacation.

Canada snorted.

"Did you even tell him what this was really about?"

"I basically told the Prez that I was gonna do some science south of japan. I think telling him I was bringing you, Andrea, and Ane really convinced him to really let me though." America made a face "Something about strengthening alliances? Meh, as long as I'm here I might as well try to help the researchers- no matter how impossible it is"

"Just get some sleep tonight Alfred"

"Ugh- Fine, just for you Mattie"

* * *

Mexico was on her bed reading a book titled 'Mitos y Más'. She was so engrossed in the book that she almost missed the ship rock violently. This force her to look up. The sound of thunder was prominent outside. Andrea rose from her bead, intent on checking the window only for the ship to once again rock violently. It threw her onto the cabinet next to her bed and she let out a shout out of both pain ( _mierda did that fucking hurt!_ ) and surprise. Mexico rose from the floor grunting in pain. The lights were off. Emergency red lights were blinking frantically.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her head. She wasn't going to sit in this room- something was obviously wrong. She opened her door and left her little cabin, heading to the top of the ship. she wobbled her way through the corridors as the whole ship continued to shake. The alarms were still blaring.

Turning into a new corridor she stopped. Not because her seasickness was returning. No, it was because she couldn't comprehend if that was really a wave of water coming down that hall straight towards her.

She really shouldn't have stopped and stared.

Mexico was tossed from side to side by the relentless waves until something struck her in the stomach. Something metal. Andrea latched on quickly when she finally comprehended that they were the ladders that lead to another level of the ship. Away from the water.

She used her arms to pull herself above the water and to the top of the ladder. All she needed to do now was climb out of the porthole and try to find the others then she. . . .

 _JODER! WHO THE HELL CLOSED THE FUCKING PORTHOLE!_

With a loud cry of "MALDITA SEA!" Mexico started banging on the glass because holy shit the water was raising.

Before the water took her last bits of air, Mexico took one giant gulp of air. Now completely submerged in water Andrea continued her banging, after all stubbornness hadn't killed her off yet.

She continued to bang on the glass for a bit longer when her lungs finally seemed to give up on the cause. As her vision blurred and she began to sink, Mexico began to regret her earlier thought.

Out of nowhere, an arm grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her upwards. Mexico cough and sputtered. She only managed to pick pieces of her surroundings, but that's all she needed really.

The porthole door was torn off its hinges.

There was someone with army boots to her left patting her on the back.

At this point, she was so grateful that America was born with such supernatural strength, even for a nation.

Too soon from a brush of death for her own liking (not that it really mattered to her kind); Alfred brought her to her feet as they raced to one side of the ship. Andrea mind finally processed that the ship was torn apart, right through the middle and they had the luck to be on the side that was sinking the fastest. On the other side was Canada, he was gesturing to them to jump.

Mexico wouldn't be able to make that jump.

Her second of hesitation spurred America to action once again. Disregarding her cry of protest, America picked her up bridle style.

Then he threw her.

Canada, as in sync with his brother as ever caught her easily (he carries a polar bear almost daily, this shouldn't be much of a surprise) then placed her on the floor next to him not so gently.

Matthew was well aware Andrea didn't need any coddling, besides he had more important concerns at the moment.

 _Alfred was still on the other side._

 _His brother wasn't with him._

Canada watched on as his brother took a few paces back before racing towards the giant hole in the ship, at the last second he jumped. It almost seemed in slow motion to him. Then to Canada's greatest fear, it didn't look like America would make the jump.

Out of what seemed like pure instinct, Canada grabbed onto a nearby pole and reached his whole body forward in a grand attempt to grab his twin.

It worked.

Matthew managed to grab a hold of Alfred's forearm. He would have pulled him up as well if the rain hadn't made their grips slippery. Both twins released a started yell. One watched his brother eyes widen in terror and attempt one last lunge, even if it meant he might fall as well. The other brother saw something similar before he disappeared into the dark waves below.

America could barely comprehend what was happening around him, the water was hitting him on all sides, tossing him about.

All he really knew was that he needed air.

The water didn't seem to be sympathetic.

It threw the man about, at the worst of times he didn't know where was up.

Then finally his boots felt earth under them. Sand, he realized absentmindedly as he trudged past the waves onto a beach, he coughed and sputtered as he did so. His body felt heavier, he was fatigued he one again noted. That thought came a bit too late as he was at this point simply crawling onto the beach before finally flopping on to his back, his coughing and sputtering didn't stop.

When his mind finally caught up he only had a few thoughts that he found important to focus on.

 _Where's Mattie?_

 _Where are the others?_

 _What the hell happened?_

Once again belatedly, he realized there was noise coming from his right, a good distance from him.

"Put some pressure on it!"

That was Reyes, the chief mechanic of the ship whose previous profession had been a NYC cop. She was a woman of average height, with shoulder length hair that was arranged in dreadlocks. She was what Alfred would call the personification of being a boss. If only said woman would stop bossing others around to maybe hear him.

"Hey!" America tried again to get the African Americans attention as he lay on the beach, still exhausted. "Over here!"

They didn't seem to hear him.

"Come on, come on"

"We've got w-"

"I knew something like this would happen"

"Come on doctor, help us out here!"

"No sign of Alf-"

Their words made no sense to Alfred who just continued to cry out for them, but it seemed the storm was too loud for them to hear him. Or themselves by the way they were shouting. He continued to try to gain someone's attention never less.

"Matthew!" he rose half his body off the sand with his harms, it only seemed to make his coughing worse "I'm here!" he rose to his knees, placing himself in an unsteady crawling position "Andrea!" he finally lifted of the ground. For a brief moment in his fatigue he lost the direction the others where. He looked around for a brief moment.

Sharp pain

Something hit him. On the back of the neck.

America passed out.

* * *

Lort- Danish for shit

Pero- Spanish for but

Mierda- Spanish for shit

Joder-Spanish for shit/fucking hell

Maldita Sea- Spanish for damn it

As for not giving Greenland a Greenlandic name, I kind of followed the pattern that of colonizer finding colony and giving them names from their country. For example, America's human name is Alfred (meaning something like elf council/king)- a bit obvious that England named him now. Historically, Norway picked up Greenland and Iceland. Iceland's popular fandom human name is Emil (rivalry)- so my conclusion is that Norway gave no fucks of meaning and only if they sound nice. So Ane.

Same goes for Mexico = Andrea (Brave). Also because I'm getting tired of all the Maria's being used as her name.


	2. Chapter 2

A New World

* * *

Wow. I didn't expect that many people to show interest in a day. My last short story it took about 2 days for me to get this amount of visitors. So thank you for that. A special thanks to LucediDio for the favorite and follow. Because of that, I decided to update again.

You know the drill: don't own the manga/anime or game.

* * *

There have been many times that America actually managed to lose consciousness for varying different reasons.

A forth of it could be blamed on himself, usually the conclusion of an idea gone wrong. The time he tried to rodeo a grizzly bear is the more frequently brought up by his brother now-a-days. Second only to the argument with Mexico that led them to a boxing ring then to a hospital- both countries agreed in their respective hospital beds that Coka-Cola was still good no matter where it was produced.

Half of it could be contributed to situations he placed himself in such as joining a military branch in a time of war. One way or another (bullet to the head, cannon fire, explosives, and etc.) he would end up unconscious, it was an occupational hazard really.

The last forth was that he had plain crap luck sometimes.

His head was still ringing from getting hit by . . . Something. He remembered the ship sinking and going overboard. He even managed to find his way to some solid land then- then he started calling out for the others and tried to make his way over? Yes, that's what happened. But how did he get hurt this time? Did he trip?

Alfred's vision never did focus completely.

There were blurs of light (they kept flickering- candles?) and a familiar type of damp smell. A cave, he was in a cave. But what was that rotting smell then?

America felt something rough scratching along his back- not important his brain categorized because what is important is that the pain hasn't stopped yet. America felt water (water? Yes, water) hit his forehead. It made the ringing in his head feel louder. He turned his head away from it.

And promptly passed out once again.

* * *

Once again Alfred regain consciousness, vision still blurred and head still pounding.

He felt of weightlessness, constriction, and lightheadedness about him.

For the third time, the nation lost consciousness.

* * *

America woke with a start. His face was covered in dirt, but that seemed to be the least of his concerns. His head hurt almost as much as it did back in 1860's- or anytime the parties argued really. He even seemed to have trouble breathing. None of this stopped him, however, from realizing that he was hanging upside down in some type of cocoon- wrapped in rope first and followed by a rough paper covering.

Absentmindedly, he also realized his vision is still blurry. It could've been just because his headache or because blood was rushing to his head as he thought. He was a nation; it would take a bit longer before he felt any effects of hanging upside down.

 _Wait . . . Nation . . ._

 _He didn't have his glasses._

 _He swore he had them last night with Mattie._

 _When did he not put on Texas? (Because NO, he did not lose them)_

 _Maybe they dropped on the ship- oh fuck, Texas is at the bottom of the ocean now sh-_

 _Okay America, now is not the time for this- priorities._

Alfred scoped out as much as he could with his limited vision. He could barely see what looks like another cocoon (because that what they really were, if he had to describe them) in front of him and with the light behind said cocoon were candles. A lot of candles from the multiple blurry bright lights.

While Alfred's vision was limited, that did nothing to stop his other senses. He could hear an echoing sound of water in the distance of the cave caverns. His mouth was so dry that it really didn't help with his breathing problem, Alfred panted in an effort to receive more air. The only useful sense seemed to be coming from his nose. America was experienced with death as any nation would be so he recognized the smell. The smell of the decaying and the emptying of the bowels was never a pleasant thing.

"Hello?" Alfred said those words in a quiet tone, almost hoping nobody would hear him. Nothing changed- no signs of anyone nearby. Just America and this unnatural stillness. That didn't sit well with him.

"Help!"

"Canada?"

"Mexico?!"

"HELP!"

With each word, America grew louder. Surely someone, anyone, was nearby.

His voice only echoed back to him.

Finally, America started growing tired of all this (the silence, fear, headache-). Alfred flexed his arms to break out of his rope confines . . .

All he accomplished was making himself sway.

Utterly confused why the ropes didn't break (it's just regular rope, he checked again), Alfred attempted once again. He was met with the same results.

 _Was there something wrong with him?_

 _Did his kidnapper (there's no was in hell it's anything else at this point) do this?_

 _That means they would know what he was! So if that's the case, w-_

His thoughts were interrupted by his own head. The throbbing seemed to have worsened as he was stressing himself out.

 _Okay, ow shit. Worry about all that later. Right now, get out. Get down._ America reevaluated his situation once more.

Near him was another cocoon - it was attached to a wooden pole that was sticking out of the outcrop of the cave wall in a horizontal position.

Behind the cocoon were the candles that America took notice of before.

. . . .

Well he's had worse ideas

America lunged his whole body in the direction of the other cocoon. It took a couple of swings for America to finally even nudge it. With one final swing at the other cocoon, it finally connected with the candles. It didn't take long before the cocoon was engulfed in flames, subsequently also letting a skeleton drop from it and crashing loudly with objects below. Ever slowly the flames climbed their way from the cocoon, up the rope, and finally surrounding the wooden pole.

Alfred gulped a breath of air before resuming his swinging.

This time towards the fire encased pole

At the final swing that would bring him (completely encased in his own rope and papery cocoon) in contact with the flames, Alfred uttered one sentence.

"This – This is gonna fucking hurt."

With that his rope finally caught on fire.

Alfred let out a cry of pain when he felt the utter burning sensation around his legs and as it climbed up his body. His body automatically started fighting back, wiggling about.

That rope didn't stand a chance.

The rope and paper of the cocoon snapped in multiple places before they couldn't carry the weight of an adult male any longer.

With that, America fell.

* * *

I'm most likely going to update twice a month, three if I'm lucky.


	3. Chapter 3

A New World

* * *

Hey! Here's the next chapter, I hope you guys enjoy

Just like last time; I don't own the manga/anime or game.

* * *

In hindsight, it wasn't the worst idea ever. America did manage to escape his cocoon prison. Though he should have thought of a better plan than just falling from the ropes.

America lay on the floor while simultaneously gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. This did nothing to stop him from letting out a cry of pain every time the man so much as twitched.

Of course.

Of course he would have just the right amount of luck to get himself skewered by a metal rod in his escape attempt.

Alfred lifted himself up and damn did it hurt when he did that. The searing pain seemed to spread from his side abdomen and up his spine.

"Oh god" Every move Alfred made to sit up caused the rod to shift inside him. He had to sit up though. He- he had to get it out of him.

America's mind wasn't clear enough to realize why that might have been a bad idea.

"Uh" with one final grunt America sat up while spreading his knees out a bit, if he wouldn't have done so the nation would have lost balance. Looking down, America finally caught sight of the metal rod. It was as much of a grizzly sight as it felt. Hands shaking, America took hold of the rod. Simply touching it sent pain shooting throughout his body.

As quickly as he could, the nation wrenched the metal rod out of his body with one final squeal.

What he felt before was nothing compared to what he felt now.

At this point Alfred thought he would- no should have passed out. He hadn't even realized he was still moaning in pain and that at some point Alfred had thrown the offending metal rod off to the side. Swallowing back bile, he moved his hands ( _were they always so heavy?_ ) to shield the injury.

Only one thought was clear to America at that moment.

He had to get out of there.

Ahead of him was more light, he could make that out.

America stood up and started lumbering his way to the passage, letting out grunts and whimpers as he went. He only made it 4 steps into the newly discovered passage before he tripped. Alfred's head was still pounding, not making it easier for his already blurry eyes to focus.

He lifted his head. There was more light at the end of the passage, just a bit more. Alfred once again rose from the ground on trembling legs and continued on as best as he could.

America didn't even register that there was a horrid aroma also coming from that direction.

Nor did he register the crunching under his boots that couldn't just be rocks.

As he grew closer to the end of his passage, his breathing (wheezing, really) started to become even more prominent.

He was already tired.

 _Shit._

Alfred, now mere steps from end of the passage, once again tripped. This time, however, he actually manages to catch himself on a nearby wooden stump. Alfred leaned his whole body on it, trying to catch his breath.

His head still hurt. Which did nothing to ease the pain from his abdomen. That injury was still throbbing horribly and, from what he could feel from his hands that were still cupping said wound, it was still bleeding.

His sight wasn't going to get any less blurry. Not without Texas.

His mouth was still utterly dry.

Finally, the strong odor hit him. It was completely indescribably putrid and strong. America looked up, his vision clear enough to confirm his nose.

"What the-!?" the passage opened to another open area. An area that had a man strung up by ropes, in an almost crucifix fashion. A whole cluster of candles surrounded the body.

Now that he concentrated, Alfred could also make out bones that were littered throughout the ground in the cavern. The bones were also all over the passage floor.

He was currently stepping on a femur.

"Oh god." Alfred's voice trembled. Admittedly, he had seen scene just as gruesome before, but horrible sights never did become easier to witness (centuries of experience or not).

What made the situation worse to Alfred was that work like this was usually done by some sort of cult. Humans were already unpredictable creatures (generally), adding crazy just made them a danger to all.

America took a large gulp of air using his mouth, to try to avoid the smell, and lifted himself from his position. He took tentative steps into the cavern.

At the other end of the cavern was another passage. Right next to the body.

The stench was worse up close. America took one last look at the poor man before continuing his stumbling towards freedom.

"No. No . . ." It was one of the mechanics that worked on the Endurance. He was the quiet Australian; Steph? Was that his name?

His skin had a purple tint to it.

There was a large puddle under his feet, that America rather not examine.

His eyes sunken into his skull.

His body looked stiff.

By all this America calculated how long the man has been dead, how long he's probably been here.

12 hours.

It's been at least 12 hours.

 _I have to get out of here._

Now more determined than ever, Alfred stumbled his way to the exit. Right at the entrance was a torch attached to a wall sconce to the left.

Alfred pulled it from its perch and continued on his way.

He almost missed the fact that, in his stumbling, he had knocked into a line of hanging bottles. The noise was loud and it did a grand job in echoing.

"Shit, that was loud" America realized a little belatedly. It wouldn't due to let his abductor be aware that he was wandering around.

America managed to hobble his way down the passage for a solid minute before he came upon a wooden barricade with flowing water running down the rocks next to it. There were a small line of ants marching down the passage wall.

 _Something good for once!_

America sat himself down amidst the bones that littered the ground and took that moment to wash his hands. He proceeded to lifted his shirt to examine his wound.

Now that he properly examined the wound, he felt slightly embarrassed. It wasn't THAT bad- he's definitely had worse (that doesn't change the fact that getting injured still hurt, no matter how fast they heal). It wasn't even that deep and by the sluggish bleeding, America could tell that arteries and organs were missed.

Giving a sigh of relief, Alfred continued on with his plan. He grabbed an ant and forced it to clamp on to his wound. Alfred continued doing so until the puncture wound was sealed with the makeshift ant stitches.

Washing his hands once again, this time so he could cup water into his hands to drink.

Was that the healthy or safe thing to do?

No.

Never less, America did so anyway. It certainly helped sooth his dry throat and mouth.

Picking up the torch from where he left it, America rose to his feet and faced his next obstacle.

The wooden barricade was made of an assortment of wooden crates and planks that really just looked like a pile of rubbish. Indisputably not used to support the passage.

It had to go if he wanted to go further.

. . .

 _Let's hope this doesn't end up like my last idea._

Alfred thrusted his torch into the flammable construct. By how quickly it burned, it was extremely flammable indeed.

That was one problem gone, but . . .

"Shit, that was louder than the bottles"

The planks and crates fell to the floor as they burned and lost their support. This noise would not go unnoticed by his abductor.

Alfred maneuvered himself over the still burning debris and continued on his way, trusty torch at hand. The next opening was more a crack in the wall, but it was still wide enough that he could shimmy his way through.

Before he could continue on, he heard something.

A couple of bangs.

A muffled sound.

 _Shit. Fuck. He heard me._

It was a voice, the _\- shit. He had to go._

With that, Alfred quickly shimmied his way through the small entrance. In his panic, he hadn't noticed the streaming water until it literally washed over him. And put out his torch.

"Aw, damn it" cursed America in a hushed tone for more than one reason. The new room he came upon looked to also be a dead end.

In front of him was a small open fire hanging in a small structure. The small room was just stacked with debris. America dropped the now useless, wet piece of wood. He then picked up a new, dry one and lit it on fire using the brazier.

America continued to examine his surroundings.

There was a ledge to his right that looked stable enough to climb. The ledge was supporting a long piece of cloth (No, wait. That was the sail and mast of a ship) that was long enough to stretch across the room . . . to a fuel tank.

After a bit of thinking over this idea (sanity and self-preservation skills as well), Alfred came to a conclusion.

 _To hell with it. If it ends badly, I could probably take the bastard with me_.

 _It's not like it'll kill me anyway._

Alfred stumbled his way over to the ledge and pulled himself up with some difficulty _(his wound could just suck it_ ), knocking down some bottles that had been placed on the edge.

For a second time today, America thrusted a torch somewhere he really shouldn't have.

* * *

Don't worry, the others will show up soon.


	4. Chapter 4

A New World

* * *

This chapter is really long. And late. Sorry. It got deleted after I finished it the first time and I didn't have time to rewrite it until last week.

You know the drill: don't own the manga/anime or game.

* * *

Admittedly, exploding a fuel tank inside a cave system with him inside could now be one of the stupidest and reckless thing he's ever done.

Even when Alfred braced himself against the ledge, that didn't stop him from stumbling as the whole cavern shook when the fuel tank exploded.

Looking up, Alfred noticed a small exit revealed itself from where the debris and fuel tank had previously been. As quick as he could, Alfred hopped down from his perch. The shaking cavern had not allowed him to catch his footing when he landed, this caused him to trip over his own feet. Jumping to his feet, Alfred quickly pulled himself up onto the new ledge created by the explosive. Once he scrambled his way up, he finally noticed something important.

That exit from before?

It was slowly shrinking.

There was a boulder above it that was slowly losing its stability.

As quickly as he could, America crouched into the closing low tunnel.

One step in, he could hear and feel the walls around him vibrate and rumble

Two steps in, he could see a clear, more stable passage ahead of him.

Three steps in, his face almost slammed into the ground.

Something was wrapped around his right foot

"Ugh!" cried a voice behind him.

At this point, Alfred started lashing out blindly.

"Hey, let go!" Alfred roared, because fuck this crazy man.

Half of him was trying to crawl away from his abductor. Nails digging into the dirt and thrashing. There were more important things than Mr. Crazy right now. The cavern was still shaking. The small passage was about to collapse. As much as he kind of planned for it, America didn't plan to get crushed if he didn't need to.

The other half of Alfred was attempting to kick the shirtless man in the face.

The tussle lasted only three seconds.

Alfred's thrashing had managed to get a hit on the other man (Sadly, not the face). It caused the crazy man to simultaneously let go of Alfred's foot and throw him back.

Now free, Alfred bodily threw himself away from the unstable tiny passage.

Just in time for it to collapse behind him.

"Oh shit, that was close"

His breathing was now erratic.

His forearm and knees hurt in the familiar way of a scrape or a cut.

His puncture wound felt like it was lit on fire. Being dragged onto his stomach hadn't helped.

"Hey!" came a voice from behind the wreckage "Come back!"

America turned away from the wreckage and towards the rest of the path because, once again, fuck this crazy man.

Walking along the path only lasted a meter. More specifically, the actual path only lasted a meter. The path was flooded with water, but it looked manageable to swim through.

So, America swam.

While it was a cramped swim, he was always a good swimmer so there was nearly no problem.

 _Thank god, I didn't take after Artie with this_

At the end of the passage was a huge enclosed cavern. To his left was a whole wall of rubbish and three fuel tanks (wow, does Mr. Crazy want this place blown up?), every so often a new piece of debris would join the wall via a steady stream of water. To his right, was a huge waterfall and a ramp. Behind said waterfall was a large comptraction connected to the ramp and a small fire pit.

The only way out was to blow stuff up again.

America couldn't take a torch directly to the fuel tank without it going out because the waterfall would simply drown the flame.

America glanced at the contraption.

He let out a large sigh, his shoulders sagging in sync and his head drooped.

 _This just . . . a big puzzle. Yeah. It's just a game._

Looking back up, America eyed everything critically.

 _I've played harder games._

* * *

It took him longer than he would have liked. But as America watched flaming crates slide down the ramp towards the wall, all he could feel was a sense of triumph.

Hopping down from his perch and into the water, America quickly braced himself on the nearby rocks.

The explosion that came next shook the very foundation of the cave.

Wooden pillars burned and collapsed.

Boulders and rocks of different sizes fell from the ceiling.

The explosion once again cleared the way to a new passage. This one, however, was different. Daylight could be seen in the distance.

This was all Alfred needed to see.

He ran through the rushing water as best as he could toward the new passage. The fastest he could manage was a slow trudging.

A rock scraped him on his right biceps.

A boulder collapsed mere feet from him.

 _Almost there._

As America got closer to the passage, he also rose from the water. Its original depth that reached his chest now only touched his thighs. Finally, America's feet hit solid ground.

After the first couple of stumbling steps out of the water, America managed to gain his balance as best as he could in a collapsing cave.

And took off in a sprint.

Everything was shaking and rumbling, from the walls to the floor. occasional pebbles and rocks would bounce off his body. The passage was dark, save for the exit ahead.

Alfred continued down the passage toward the light in a blind, blundering sprint. Ahead was a fork in the cave system, daylight spilled in from the left.

 _Almost there._

Just then, as if to spite him, the passage on the left collapsed.

Feet slid, throwing body momentum to the right passage. Arms shot up to protect his head. America's reflexes kicked in quick enough to avoid death once again.

He dashed down the new passage, his pace now slower and wearier. The roar of the earth around him was almost deafening.

 _Don't stop._

Alfred's breath came in pants, irregular as they were. His heart was pounding. His face was caked in a layer of dust, blood, and dirt that obscured his vision more than it already was. A now familiar searing pain was being felt in his abdomen.

 _Don't stop._

The earth all around Alfred shifted once again.

That was his only warning before the ceiling in front collapse taking the ground under his feet with him.

"Uaah!"

Alfred collapsed on a lower level, but his descent didn't stop there. As rocks slide down the steep and narrow chamber, so did he.

"Agh!"

In an effort to try and stop himself, Alfred attempted to use his booted feet as a makeshift anchor.

"Gah!"

This was all done in vain, though they did steer him away from the branches that rested along the walls.

Suddenly, America came to a realization he was sliding rather quickly towards a barrier. It was really just pieces of wood haphazardly placed together– definitely not something that had a chance at stopping a 177 cm (5'9.6") man going what felt like 30 mph.

In a shower of dirt and broken wood, he lands in a lower passageway. There is no time to stop and check on all his new scrapes, not when the floor was shifting so dangerously.

He scrambles away, not looking back. That doesn't stop him from both hearing and feeling the floor behind him collapsing.

As he runs, America can feel the rubble bouncing off his skin. Some are unnoteworthy and are little more than an annoyance. Others will leave a colorful bruise.

None stop his pace.

Because he can once again see distant lights.

America clambers up a slope and only has moments to register that he has to jump. The cave is still collapsing right at his heels.

He takes the leap and only barely manages to catch himself on the other side. It's a struggle to pull himself quickly, especially with the way it stretches his wound. He does so anyway.

A rock scraped on his back.

 _No time._

This new platform is shaking, crumbling, and shifting. There is barely any time before he has to jump again.

This time he successfully lands on his feet.

A wooden structure plummets to the bottom of the cavern to his right. America hardly notices it.

 _Keep going._

"Ahh!"

Alfred jumps again and this time catches himself with his upper body. At this point, he could feel his abdomen stretching the wound and tearing at the makeshift stitches painfully.

It takes a second ( _too slow, hurry up_ ) to get his bearings and heave himself back on his feet. The collapsing of the whole cave system behind him is a motivator.

Back on his feet, he continues as best and quick as he can.

 _Go._

In front of America is only a narrow opening, no more jumping ( _Thank god_ ).

 _Go._

He weaves past a corner and move forward into a narrow passage

 _Go._

Just before America could clear the route, an enormous boulder slams down in front of him on the narrow passage but it miraculously held up by cave walls. The boulder makes the only exit a low tunnel.

The only exit was slowly closing.

 _Shit. Go._

America, while using the momentum from his running, throws himself under the boulder. His desperate dive lands him halfway across the makeshift tunnel.

he scrambles himself away from the tunnel little by little and as quickly as possible.

. . .

Until his feet were once again grabbed.

"Agh!?"

Alfred tries to scramble away from his abductor with more urgency than before. Everything's collapsing and the ceiling to this unstable tunnel was a mere foot away from his head.

 _Fuck this crazy man._

Alfred twists his body around and began to flail his legs for all he was worth.

"Let go you Bastard!" Dirt fell into his mouth when he screamed this.

At this rate, the boulder was going to kill them both because this idiot won't move.

 _I am not going to die because someone else decides to be an idiot._

 _Not me, not today._

In a bout of determination and stubbornness, America wrenching one foot out of his abductors grasp. And kicked Mr. Crazy directly in the face. His abductors face snaps in one direction by the force of the kick and his hands loose from their grip on Alfred's boot.

That gave America enough time to lunges out of the way of the boulder.

It takes him a second to get back up on his feet and continue running but that doesn't stop him from hearing it.

"Ugh, Ugh, AHH!"

 _Fucker got what he deserved after what he did to Steph._

At this point, the scramble with Mr. Crazy left Alfred out of breath. His huffing now seemed to morph into a wheezing, but there's no time to catch his breath as the ceiling collapses from above and the walls began to cave in from all sides.

 _SHIT!_

 _FUCK!_

All too soon does America need to make another desperate lunge across a gap, this one significantly wider than the ones before.

"Ahhh!"

Alfred doesn't land on anything flat this time. No, what he lands on is a slope that has him sliding down it.

The rocks bounce off slope hitting him do not help him, whatsoever. Nonetheless, Alfred gropes at any surface as he slides, but he still can't get a grip.

For a horrifying second, America feels his body slip from the rocks. He somehow manages to hang on to the edge of the slope.

And in an another bout of energy (self-preservation, really), he pulls himself up and uses the ledge a springboard to start his crawl to freedom.

In the distance, he could see daylight once again.

America was tired, hungry, thirsty, and hurt.

But nothing was going to stop him now that he was so close.

Alfred's arms and legs were moving at a fast pace clamber.

All around, he could both feel and hear the cave finally giving in on itself. Rocks ricocheted from different directions to another.

None of this slowed America down.

What did was a boulder heading right for him.

 _SHIT!_

Keeping one hand lodged in its spot as an anchor in the steep slope, America threw himself away from the falling boulder.

Alfred returned to his crawl, now more frantically than before.

 _Almost there!_

His knees and elbows hurt.

 _Shit._

His abdomen felt like it could literally be killing him.

 _Fuck._

But that doesn't matter because he is almost there!

Alfred continues his scrambling uphill, much less coordinated as he nears the exit.

Only then does it process that the light is getting smaller.

 _SHIT!_

Ever so slowly another boulder ( _fuck these rocks_ ) was closing the exit.

 _GO!_

A rock hit his foot. It doesn't matter. His already limited sight gets worse as the only source of light narrows.

 _GO!_

Alfred loses his balance for a millisecond- wasted time. He can only see the exit, everything else is black.

 _GO!_

America hates the dark.

* * *

Everything hurts.

His legs, arms, back and stomach.

Most of all his eyes.

"Nugh!" America breaches the surface of the once cave like a whale. He is gasping for air like one, too.

He drags his body a couple feet away from the hole he popped out from ( _like a fucking daisy_ ).

Alfred then looks up. Not much can be seen from his spot on the ground. That doesn't matter because right now even in his spot, Alfred could see the sky.

Still gasping, he finally lets himself drop his head onto the ground.

He had been down in that cave system for hours. If he wasn't so happy to seen the sky, he would be cursing it. It was just too bright for his eyes right now.

So that's where the current superpower is, on the floor with his head tucked into his arms.

If asked America could honestly say that he don't even know how long laid there.

5 minutes?

30 minutes?

Not long enough in his opinion.

Grunting, America rose from the ground. His body once again reminded him of how everything hurt.

His shoulder and back were probably covered in bruises. The puncture wound from before probably looks awful now. He felt light-headed.

 _It doesn't matter. It'll be healed in an hour._

Alfred took a few stumbled steps, only to fall after the first five.

"Ah . . ." wincing he once again rose from ground much more slowly and carefully than his other attempt.

Finally, Alfred makes it to the edge, the edge of a cliff he realizes belatedly. He can see the beach and the ocean that touches it.

More importantly, America also sees enormous jagged rocks that have done an impressive job of collecting a ship graveyard. Ships from different eras, both modern and old litter the beach as far as Alfred could see. Not only that, there are just as many skeletons of planes that are scattered here and there. From Cargos to Fighters

 _Damn, that's a lot of shit._

 _Where am I?_

Thinking back, America tried to backtrack his memory. With the force of the numerous boulders America has almost been crushed by today, a thought hit him

 _Where are the others?_

* * *

I hope you guys liked this because it was such a pain to rewrite it all over after doing it once. If you have time please send feedback.


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